


Frame Thy Fearful Symmetry

by asparagus_writes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Whump, Battle Droids (Star Wars), Force God Anakin Skywalker, Force Suppression (Star Wars), Gen, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Interrogation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV CT-7567 | Rex, Rex gets Force-yeeted (from a certain point of view), The Force, me trying to get creative with Force powers, the standard escape from enemy prison plotline but with a twist, thinly veiled foreshadowing of the clone trooper chips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagus_writes/pseuds/asparagus_writes
Summary: Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, Fives, and Echo get captured, but the enemy has plans to make this a different kind of imprisonment. Unfortunately for them, and also Anakin, their plan goes awry.Or, the Separatists learn that injecting the Chosen One with a Force-suppressing drug has unpleasant and dangerous side effects.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 39
Kudos: 326





	Frame Thy Fearful Symmetry

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the poem The Tyger by William Blake

Rex was surprised the Seppies were letting them all share the same cell. Although, seeing blasters pointed point blank at the heads of Fives, Echo, Commander Tano, and the General was so far working pretty well to keep him from trying anything. And it seemed to be working pretty well against the others too. So maybe it wasn’t a terrible strategy for the Seps to be using.

A line of reluctantly obedient prisoners, they were herded to stand in a straight line against the back wall of the cell. It was a twisted imitation of being lined up for a firing squad, but logically Rex knew that if the droids wanted only to kill them, they would have done so already. No, they were most likely going to be used for something else. Information, or to draw other Republic forces into a trap.

Rex’s guess was confirmed when a tactical droid stepped up on the other side of the cell’s ray shield. Droids didn’t technically have facial expressions, but Rex had always thought T-1s looked distinctly smug, and it never failed to make his blood boil. The shield dropped for a moment to let the droid through. An interrogation droid followed it. It was information that they were after, then.

Rex squared his shoulders. He certainly had a lot of information that the clankers would like to know, and he wasn’t overly fond the injection that was likely coming, but he had been trained to withstand this. They all had. At least the Seppies weren’t going to get what they wanted.

The tactical droid paced from Fives’ end of the line towards General Skywalker’s, untouchable behind the lines of B-1s with blasters still pointed at them.

“What do you want from us?” Skywalker asked stonily, once the droid had stopped in front of him.

“General Skywalker,” the droid intoned.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Skywalker said.

“No, but there are some very interesting information reports about you in my memory banks.”

“Then you’ll know I don’t take kindly to my people being threatened.”

A tinny, unnatural laugh emanated from the droid’s speakers.

“Indeed. I’ve also calculated that such a strategy tends to be ineffective.”

Rex turned his head to the side, just enough so he could see General Skywalker out of the corner of his eye past the slope of Commander Tano’s montrals, but not so obviously as to invite punishment from any of the droids. Skywalker tilted his head just so, a predatory look glinting in his eyes.

“Figured that one out, did you? I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” the droid replied tonelessly, not affected by the clear sarcasm in Skywalker’s compliment, “Furthermore, I’ve determined that it is always _you specifically_ who is the problem.”

“You know, I tend to get that a lot.”

“Yes, the Force tends to get in the way quite often. Fortunately, we have a acquired a solution to that problem.”

At this, the interrogation droid, brandishing a syringe of clear liquid, floated over to hover right next to the tactical droid.

The set of General Skywalker’s shoulders shifted subtly and his eyes narrowed.

“That’s not the usual injection, is it?” he asked, his tone carefully level.

“Very clever, Jedi,” the tactical droid said, “that is midiramadol.”

Skywalker nodded tightly, still eyeing the syringe askance.

“A suppressant. I’m familiar.”

“Then you’ll understand that this is nothing more than an insurance measure to prevent your escape.”

The interrogator droid moved forward, aiming the tip of the needle at Skywalker’s neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned, jerking his chin at it. The T-1 again made the grating sound that was supposed to be a laugh.

“The research on this drug contained in my memory indicates that it will substantially weaken you. A poor bluff, General Skywalker.”

“It’s not a bluff. Sure, that thing won’t be fun for me, but it’ll be way worse for you,” he warned, baring his teeth at the droid.

Watching the exchange, Rex wasn’t sure who to believe. The Separatists had all the power here, and General Skywalker tended to be confrontational even when there was nothing to gain from it. But there was an undertone to his General’s voice that made Rex a bit inclined to believe the completely unsubstantiated claims.

“Inject him,” the tactical droid ordered dispassionately. Skywalker stared fixedly at a point on the cell’s grey wall, and Rex heard the faint hiss of air through his teeth as the drug entered his body. He rolled his shoulders as the interrogator droid retreated, drifting over to Commander Tano next and pulling another syringe out of its casing.

Skywalker hadn’t flinched the whole time, but he did when he realized the droids meant to inject her also.

“Don’t—” he growled dangerously, in a way that would have Rex freezing in his tracks but unfortunately had next to no effect on droids. Rex saw Ahsoka’s eyes flick nervously over to her master, but she kept her mouth shut.

“There is very little that can stop me once my logical processors have made a tactical decision, General. Including you, at the moment,” the tactical droid said, as Rex watched the Commander be injected with the same concoction Skywalker had just been given. She was standing right next to him, and Rex could see the way her muscles tensed in an effort to stifle any other visible reaction to the needle piercing her skin.

“You’ll regret that,” Skywalker threatened darkly. It had used to be jarring to hear a Jedi speak with such danger in their voice—given what Rex had been taught about the Jedi way on Kamino—and it still was, to an extent. But this was hardly the first time General Skywalker had sounded like that, and at least right now it did something to dampen the burning protectiveness that had just swelled inside Rex.

“I am not capable of experiencing regret,” the droid responded, that unreasonably _smug-looking bastard_ , “I will be back in a few minutes to ask you some questions.”

Rex expected General Skywalker to have some kind of biting retort to that, but instead he just watched as a muscle jumped in the man’s clenched jaw. It was hard to tell from the angle he was looking, but Rex thought the Jedi’s eyes were starting to lose focus. Was that the drug kicking in?

Neither Rex nor any of his fellow soldiers moved as the ray shield deactivated again and the droids filed out of the room. The B-1s walked backwards, keeping their blasters trained on their prisoners right up until the barrier sizzled back to life.

As soon as the tactical droid had passed out of the cell’s line of sight, General Skywalker took two halting steps backward, until his body collided with the metal wall with a dull thump. His legs folded under him and he slid down the wall onto the ground.

“Master, what—” Commander Tano asked, confused.

“Sit down, Ahsoka, before you fall down,” he answered with his eyes closed.

As if on cue, she swayed dangerously, and Rex heard her small gasp of surprise. Rex closed the distance between them and grabbed her. She sagged alarmingly into his arms and he lowered her to the ground. Her face was slack; she had passed out.

“Commander!” Echo exclaimed from behind Rex, and soon the three clones were kneeling around her. Rex shook her shoulder a little and she stirred weakly. Skywalker hadn’t moved from his position, slumped against the wall, to join them like Rex would have expected him to.

“Sir, what did they give to you two?” Fives demanded.

“She’ll be okay in a minute, her mind just has to get used to it,” the General said, sounding suddenly exhausted.

“Used to _what_ , exactly?” Fives pressed.

Commander Tano’s eyes snapped open, and she stared uncomprehendingly up at Rex’s face for a beat before her eyes widened even further. She looked _scared_ , he realized with a sinking feeling.

“I can’t—” she gasped, then called out, her voice rising, “Master, I can’t—The Force _isn’t there_ —why can’t I feel it?”

“They injected you with a strong Force suppressant, Ahsoka,” Skywalker said, “the Force didn’t go anywhere, it’ll wear off in a couple of hours.”

Ahsoka pushed herself into a sitting position, her sudden dizziness apparently gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“It feels _wrong_ ,” she said, looking too painfully young and twisting her hands together nervously in her lap, “I don’t like it.”

General Skywalker opened his eyes to meet his padawan’s bewildered gaze. Rex thought his eyes still looked glassy—not quite there—but he spoke firmly.

“I know, Snips, and I’m sorry. You’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll get us all out of here.”

Rex couldn’t see how he meant to do that, especially if he couldn’t use the Force, but then he remembered—

“What did you mean, Sir, when you told that droid it would be worse for him than you?”

Skywalker squeezed his eyes shut and his throat bobbed.

“I’ve encountered this kind of thing before. It was several years ago, on a mission with Obi Wan. He was like Ahsoka—once it hit him, he was just as functional as any of you three are.”

“And then he just—got the Force back when the drug wore off and that was it?” the Commander asked.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a carefully controlled breath. Rex thought it would be a stretch to call the General just as functional as he, Fives, Echo, or even Commander Tano was right now.

“But I—” Skywalker continued, “It didn’t really work on me. I don’t feel the Force less—the opposite actually.”

“Because you’re the Chosen One?”

“ _Ahsoka._ ”

“Well…” she shrugged.

“Even if I _were_ the Chosen One, the prophecy doesn’t exactly have any lines about _mind-altering substances.”_ He visibly swallowed again. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter why.”

“If you can use the Force, can’t you just use it to filter the suppressant out of my blood? And then I can do the same for you, and we can try to escape since they won’t be expecting it?” she reasoned.

“I _could,”_ he agreed. Rex sensed a ‘but.’

“I can feel the Force just fine,” he said, wincing, “but my control is near non-existent. I could just as easily filter something else out of your blood accidentally. Something that you actually _need._ Like oxygen.”

“The Force could do that?” Echo interrupted, sounding horrified.

“Through the Force, all things are possible,” Ahsoka recited, the horror in her voice much duller, but still unmistakable.

General Skywalker rubbed a hand over his mouth.

“So, forgive me if I don’t want to risk it,” he said ominously.

Commander Tano just nodded, unease clear on her face.

“But you _do_ have a plan to us get out of here?” Fives asked.

“You’re right. I do,” the General replied, visibly steeling himself and then moving to stand up. Rex watched him carefully as he reached backwards to brace his hand against the wall.

“I—” Skywalker started as he straightened, then closed his mouth. His face had turned an unpleasant shade of grey. He didn’t look well at all.

True to Rex’s assessment, General Skywalker turned his back on them abruptly, gagging.

Rather than keep watching his commanding officer vomit onto the floor of their Sep jail cell, Rex turned to Fives and Echo and they all shared identical looks of concern. Commander Tano got to her feet easily. Other than sharing her own deeply troubled expression with them, _she_ looked completely fine.

When the sound of retching subsided, Echo said, “Sir, maybe you should sit down again.” Looking back at Skywalker, Rex could see why he had suggested it. The Jedi was breathing hard and leaning heavily against the wall, resting the side of his head against its metal surface. He looked about a moment away from collapsing into the puddle of his own sick.

Rex quickly ducked in, draping Skywalker’s free arm across his shoulders and guiding him a few sluggish steps backwards.

“No,” Skywalker groaned, “waiting’s not gonna solve anything.”

Unfortunately, Rex had to agree with him. The droid had said it would be back soon. He didn’t know much about Jedi techniques about resisting interrogation, but he thought they probably involved usage of the Force. That wouldn’t go well. Waiting for the drug to wear off and the Jedi to get their powers back wasn’t an option. Who knew how much of that drug the Seppies had on hand? They could theoretically keep coming back and dosing them up indefinitely. Rex didn’t want to spend days in the brig with General Skywalker like this and doubted the man himself was very keen on the idea either.

He shifted more of his weight onto Rex and released the wall to drag his sleeve roughly over his mouth.

“You feeling okay now, Ahsoka?” Skywalker asked hoarsely. His padawan eyed him warily.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, “except for, you know, the Force.”

“Good.”

“I’m a little bit more worried about _you_ , though,” she said.

General Skywalker shook his head, his fingers tightening a little where they gripped Rex’s shoulder.

“Don’t be. My body’s just not a huge fan of this drug, that’s all.”

“…Sure,” Commander Tano replied, not looking or sounding at all convinced.

“Alright,” Skywalker continued, ignoring her skepticism and looking towards the cell’s ray-shielded doorway instead, “first things first.”

Rex saw him take a deep breath in, and then the lights in the ceiling flashed and sparked. A split second later, they were all plunged into inky darkness. The distinct hum of electronics powering down lingered—of the _ray shield_ powering down.

“Hey, who turned off the lights?” came the nasally voice of a battle droid from somewhere down the hall. Rex registered the clomp of retreating metal footsteps.

“Well,” Skywalker said from beside Rex, “I only meant to shut off the ray shield, but this works, I guess.”

Then, the floor shook and bucked under their feet. Rex heard Fives bite off a mando’a curse and barely managed to keep himself and the General upright. The tremor only lasted a few moments and then everything was dark and still again.

“And apparently the hyperdrive’s dead too,” the General muttered. Rex stilled. Did that mean that General Skywalker had _pulled the entire Sep cruiser_ out of hyperspace? That would go a long way towards helping them escape, but Rex still hoped that this drug, whatever it was, would wear off quickly. He agreed with Commander Tano: he didn’t like it one bit.

“We’re fairly close to the Darkknell system. They might’ve been taking us to Malastare,” General Skywalker’s voice drifted through the darkness, “the closest Republic forces are… Eriadu, I think.”

Rex had always known General Skywalker to have a thorough knowledge of astronavigation—especially hyperspace lanes—but this was something else. There was no way he could have known that.

It was probably the Force, he realized. After all his time spent serving with Jedi, Rex had formed what he thought was a good understanding of the Force’s capabilities. He’d gotten used to the strangeness of it, but now—

“So now we just need to steal a transport,” Commander Tano said.

“What are we waiting for?” Fives asked, “let’s go—ow!”

There was a loud clatter of armor.

“Watch it! That was _me_ you just walked into,” grumbled Echo.

“Maybe some light first,” the Commander amended, “Master, can you…turn the lights _back_ on?”

“Uh…maybe?”

They were all silent for a few seconds before light flared in the room, Rex looked up at first, but the ceiling lights were still off. A glow flickered over Commander Tano’s stunned face like someone had lit a candle, and Rex’s eye was quickly drawn to the source. He knew the General felt his full body flinch, but Rex couldn’t stop himself. There was an odd sphere of light hovering over a few inches over General Skywalker’s left palm—almost like a miniature sun, but not as fiery or turbulent—a steady, warm, yellow-white ball with hazy edges. Rex had never seen anything like it.

“ _What the kriff—_ ” Fives murmured.

Commander Tano reached out a curious finger towards the strange light.

“ _Don’t_ ,” her master rasped, the dazed surprise on his face illuminated clearly. Ahsoka’s finger froze mid-air.

“I have no idea what this thing is. It’s not quite Force lightning, but it—it might still hurt you.” His expression shuttered quickly, becoming unreadable. Skywalker gestured towards the now-illuminated empty doorway and the light followed his hand as it moved.

“After you.”

As Fives and Echo stepped out into the corridor, scanning it for threats, Rex took another nervous look at the light. It didn’t look dangerous—in fact, it was almost inviting—but it should have been _impossible_. This time, he also noticed the faint trembling in Skywalker’s fingers, which were casting quivering shadows on the floor. He wasn’t sure how long their luck was going to hold out—or how far the General could go without collapsing—so he hoped the hangar was close. Though, if the Separatist who designed this ship had been smart (which wasn’t a given by any means) it would be a long trip.

General Skywalker leaned on Rex unsteadily as they followed Fives and Echo in the direction they had come from when the droids first led them to the cell. Commander Tano brought up the rear.

As their group continued down the corridor leading out of the cell block, they began to hear the faint sounds of droid activity—high pitched voices and clanking footsteps, probably panicking from the sudden system failure. The hall lights were kaput out here too, and Skywalker’s light only reached a few feet in front of Fives and Echo. If a group of clankers kept quiet, they might not know until they were there until they were practically right on top of each other. Echo stopped the group.

“What are we supposed to do if we run into them and we don’t have any weapons?”

The noise was growing closer.

“Leave them to me,” General Skywalker said, withdrawing his right arm from around Rex’s shoulders.

“Sir—” Rex protested, both because he wasn’t sure that his Jedi would be able to stand on his own—an upright General was a lot easier to haul out of the way of blaster bolts than one sprawled on the ground—and because he did not want to witness whatever new and chaotic way he would come up with to destroy the droids. He had never been actually afraid of Anakin Skywalker, but show Rex a few more disturbing and unhinged Force tricks, and he thought he might start to be.

“I’m alright,” Skywalker assured him faintly, though the continued pallor of his face and the beads of sweat Rex could see forming on his forehead suggested otherwise. He pushed his way between Fives and Echo to walk in front of them. Rex was surprised he was moving so steadily all of a sudden, but he would take it.

They came to a corner before they came face-to-face with any battle droids. The beams of what must have been the clankers’ flashlights hit the opposite wall. They were close. Fives and Echo did the sensible thing and hung back, forcing Rex and Ahsoka to stop behind them, but General Skywalker stepped right out into the open, in front of the droids.

“Jedi!” came the distinctive voice of a B-1, “blast hi—”

General Skywalker furrowed his brow, stretched out his right hand, and began slowly clenching his fist. The droid never got to finish speaking, his artificial voice replaced by the sound of droid parts clattering to the ground. Skywalker stepped forward, out of the view of the rest of them. They felt like they had to follow.

There were about a dozen or more droid corpses in the hallway, some still sparking. They hadn’t been crushed, not heaps of crumpled metal like Rex had been expecting—he’d seen Jedi do that to droids before, but only ever a few at a time. They were completely intact: just inactive. If Rex didn’t know any better, he’d say they’d been taken out by an EMP. Fives and Echo each stopped to pry blasters out of the nearest droids’ hands, and Rex picked up two, handing one to Commander Tano. She made a sour face, clearly wishing for her lightsabers instead, which the Seppies probably had locked up somewhere far from here, but accepted it. Rex knew she could handle herself with a blaster well enough.

General Skywalker hadn’t picked up a weapon, but he was already ahead of the rest of them, picking his way through the quiescent droids. Or, he wasn’t picking his way through them but walking normally, and every time his foot was about to land on a metal leg or arm or head, the part just—skittered—out of the way. Rex wasn’t even sure Skywalker noticed it was happening.

The rest of them had to follow him the hard way, finding open patches of floor to step on or otherwise treading on droid parts. At least General Skywalker stopped at the edge of the droid graveyard, not getting so far ahead of them as to leave them to pick through the wreckage in darkness.

Once they had regrouped, they continued down the hallway, now having clearly left the brig section of the ship. They passed closed, unmarked doors that gave nothing away as to what this part of the ship was used for. Luckily, they also didn’t pass any droids. It seemed like whatever Skywalker had done to the cruiser was enough to require the attention of a lot of droids. After the fifth turn that he led them through, Fives had the nerve to ask,

“You know where we’re going, right sir?”

Rex wished he had kept his mouth shut, because if Rex imagined General Skywalker’s unconventional light source as a glowing holomap instead, he could have almost convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with this situation—a simple mission behind enemy lines—and that no one was using previously-unheard-of creepy Force powers to guide them through this wholly unfamiliar ship.

“Yeah,” Skywalker replied, sounding tired again, “their hangar’s about a few more minutes walk this way,” he gestured with straight ahead with his free hand, “and two levels down.”

Commander Tano butted in with what Rex interpreted as faux confidence (or maybe he was just projecting),

“So, we just need to find a turbolift, and—"

Suddenly, Rex’s stomach dropped, as if the floor had disappeared from underneath his feet. He was falling, air was whistling past his ears, he was watching the walls slide upwards past him, there was another floor coming up to meet him, but there was no impact, he was still falling, more walls, more floor, and then—

His left shoulder and hip met the ground, and Rex could hear the snap of his armor taking the hard collision with the metal surface. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was darker around him than before. Roaming beams of light wildly cut through the blackness instead of the steady glow of ten seconds ago, adding to the confusion. Rex thought he saw the ceiling above him ripple and then solidify. _As if it hadn’t been solid just a moment before_.

Rex managed to draw air into his lungs, heard his brothers groaning somewhere close to him, and then a familiar, very unwelcome voice was saying,

“Hey! It’s the escaped prisoners!” Rex began scrambling to his feet, feeling beside him for the blaster that had been knocked out of his hands on impact—

“Blast them!”

Rex steeled himself for a pain that never came. A beat after he should have been shot, he opened his eyes (when had he shut them?) and cast them about, first finding General Skywalker on the floor next to him. The Jedi had propped himself up on one elbow and his other arm was thrown in front of his face. He was bathed in a scarlet glow—everything was.

Only then did Rex realize that there were multiple streaks of red light hovering less than a foot in front of his face. They were blaster bolts, fired from the droids’ guns, frozen in the middle of their rapid assault. The air around each bolt rippled in some invisible struggle. The plasma vibrated, forming jagged edges, its deadly heat barely contained.

Rex watched in fascinated horror as another red streak hurtled towards him, only to be abruptly stopped like the others. There were too many suspended shots in front of him for Rex to see the droid that had fired it on the other side of the wall of light.

The bright red light was making his eyes burn so Rex turned his head again, seeing that the others were in a similar position as him. All five of them were sprawled on the ground, clustered in a group in the middle of a hallway, with a torrent of red bolts coming at them from squads of droids on two sides.

General Skywalker let out a sharp yell and then suddenly the bolts were flying outwards at speed, back to the droids that had fired them. In the space of a second, most of the shots had met the metal of their droid targets, except for one shot that bounced back and forth several times at wild angles between the two hallway walls until it eventually hit the one last standing droid clean between its photoreceptors. The droid tipped slowly backward and fell to the ground with a crash. Then they were left with only the sounds of their panicked breaths. The droids’ flashlights were still on where they had fallen and lit the hallway haphazardly.

The first to break the silence was Skywalker, retching like before. Though he had collapsed completely back to the floor at some point, he managed to roll onto his side and get one hand under him before coughing and gagging again.

Somewhere behind Rex and slightly to his left, Commander Tano whimpered. Rex turned around to find her sitting up, watching her master with wide-eyed shock, and clutching her right forearm with her left hand. Her shoulder didn’t look right—she had probably landed on it wrong and dislocated it. Echo was already crawling towards her and Fives was rolling up onto his knees a few feet behind General Skywalker.

Rex stared out at the hallway of smoking droids and then looked up at the ceiling again, which looked perfectly solid and unbroken once more.

“We fell through the ceiling. We fell _through_ the ceiling, but—” he heard Fives muse distractedly, apparently having followed Rex’s gaze. Echo was offering to pop Tano’s shoulder back into place, his voice gentle.

“Is everyone alright?” General Skywalker croaked, then spit some saliva onto the floor.

“Looks like the Commander dislocated her shoulder when we fell, Sir. Anyone else?” Rex said softly. Fives and Echo quickly shook their heads—they were fine. His own shoulder and hip hurt, but he thought the armor would have absorbed enough force of impact to just leave them all with bruises later.

“How _did_ we fall?” Commander Tano asked as Echo stretched her arm out in front of her and grasped her hand.

“It was like the floor just _dissolved_ under us—” Fives said, though Rex doubted she had been asking him. She yelped as her arm slid back into its socket, interrupting Fives. They all watched her catch her breath afterwards, pretending they didn’t see the tears that welled in her eyes from the pain. When Rex glanced at Skywalker, he looked stricken, watching his padawan. And he still looked too pale.

“I get _that_ part, Fives,” Tano gritted out. “It had to have been you, Master,” she continued, “but _how_ would you even do that? And _why_?”

“I don’t know, Ahsoka,” he said quietly, “and I didn’t mean to—” he glanced upward, “I would have preferred a turbolift too.”

“You know, I think you must have done something to the individual _molecules_ of metal,” she pressed on, sounding curious, “like, temporarily changed their state of matter or something, because it looks intact up there now. But that would have taken a _huge_ amount of control, and you said—"

“ _Enough_ , Ahsoka.”

“And the blaster bolts too: to grasp each individual one and hold so many at one time, I mean—"

She stopped when she finally seemed to realize that no one else shared her enthusiasm. Skywalker was looking guiltily away from all of them.

“It’s not like that. I wasn’t—I wasn’t even _concentrating_. I was just thinking that we needed to be two floors down, and then we _were_. Ahsoka, whatever it seems like, I’m not in control of the Force, it’s—”

He cut himself off, but Rex heard the implied _it’s in control of me_. He felt a sudden revulsion and couldn’t pinpoint where exactly it was coming from. The idea of not being in control of himself—of being controlled by something and hurting someone he cared about because of it—was one of the worst things he could imagine.

Rex had been right when he had predicted that a few more Force incidents would make him scared of his General. And judging by the way General Skywalker looked at his padawan and her injured shoulder, Rex was willing to bet he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“Well,” Rex said gruffly, not wanting to think about any of it anymore, “I, for one, am ready to get out of here.” He stood up and then bent down to take the flashlight from the nearest dead droid, since the light they’d been using before had disappeared. He turned back to see Echo pulling Commander Tano up by her good hand, and Skywalker struggling to his feet on his own, though Fives was hovering near him.

Rex turned in the direction he was fairly sure Skywalker had pointed before. He knew he was right when the sea of droid scrap was parted down the middle by an invisible hand, leaving a strip of open floor for them to walk through. When General Skywalker fell into step beside him, Rex didn’t look at him.

They walked for a few more minutes, not running into any trouble— _please, please, let that have been the last of the trouble_ , Rex thought— before General Skywalker stopped in his tracks. He stepped over to the wall on his left and pressed his hands against it, bent slightly at the waist. There was nothing special about spot: just a blank grey surface like the whole rest of the ship. At first, Rex thought Skywalker was going to be sick again.

But then, he stepped back, saying, “Ahsoka, I can feel our sabers, they’re—”

His breath caught and they heard the faint clank of metal hitting metal somewhere on the other side of the wall.

A B-1’s muffled voice exclaimed, “ _What the_ —” and was cut off before it could finish.

General Skywalker took several more rapid steps back and Rex quickly got out of his way. A split second later two beams of concentrated blue and green light pierced the wall, in the spots Skywalker had just placed his hands. They didn’t stop, and the hilts of the lightsabers followed, careening through the holes the blades had left. The green saber—Commander Tano’s—rotated as it flew through the air, so that Skywalker caught the hilt in his right hand with the blade held horizontally in front of his body. His own blue weapon speared straight towards him, coming to an abrupt stop with the deadly tip only centimeters from piercing its owner’s chest. They all stared at it in astonishment for a moment.

Then, knocking the blue blade off target by slipping the green one underneath it, General Skywalker snatched the familiar hilt out of the air with his left hand and powered them both down quickly. Rex barely had time to wonder where Tano’s second saber was before said hilt—luckily unlit—flew through the hole in the wall its mate had left. It struck Skywalker, whose hands were full, square in the chest and clattered to the floor at his feet. He doubled over, coughing; lightsaber hilts were heavier than they looked and this one had been travelling pretty fast.

Rex looked back at the smoldering holes in the wall, peering through one to find that there was a matching one in the opposite wall of the room he was looking into. And another hole in the wall of the room behind that. He couldn’t tell how far back it went. Rex felt a twinge of regret that the same technique Skywalker had used on the lightsabers probably wouldn’t work with their helmets, since all their gear had likely been stored in the same place, however far away that was from here. He was just going to have to paint and break in a new helmet the way he liked when they got back.

The Commander darted forward to pick up her lightsaber from the ground with her good hand. She clipped it to her belt before taking the other one her gasping master was offering her.

“Don’t try to block any blasters with those,” Rex heard him wheeze.

“Why not?”

“You can’t sense anything coming; you’ll be shot.”

He coughed violently.

“Oh,” she said. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

“Just knocked the wind out of me.”

Commander Tano hesitated then clipped the other saber onto her belt and stepped back from him, frowning.

Rex watched Skywalker catch his breath. Clearly, he was dangerous, and not just to the droids. But he was still _General Skywalker_ and Rex’s friend, and he hated seeing him like this—slightly unhinged and definitely unwell. Rex wanted to let his General lean on him, like he had in the beginning, but he didn’t think it was _safe_ , and Skywalker would probably agree.

 _Only a little bit longer and then we can get out of here,_ he told himself.

Before long, the General straightened and took the lead of their group once more. After a while longer, they came upon a pair of double doors. They led to the hangar, finally. General Skywalker ignited his lightsaber, and Rex heard Commander Tano do the same with one of hers. He, Fives, and Echo readied their filched blasters.

“Let’s catch our ride out of here, boys,” the Commander said confidently, and the doors opened.

There were droids on the other side—a lot of them—but they had done this song and dance before. General Skywalker deflected their blaster bolts with his lightsaber, the clones shot them down and covered Commander Tano as she darted out to slice the ones they missed. Their team made their way further into the hangar, towards the nearest ship, which looked like it would suit their needs well enough.

The arrogant tactical droid from earlier and a squad of battle droids guarded the ship’s ramp. Once they got close, Rex started focusing his fire on the group droids.

“I cannot compute how you managed to make it this far, General Skywalker, but I assure you, your escape stops here,” the T-1 said, heedless of the shots whizzing past it.

“You again,” Skywalker growled, still deflecting bolts, “I did warn you.”

“An empty threat. We have you outnumbered.”

Skywalker’s blue blade sliced through the necks of two battle droids on the left of the T-1, and then Rex saw the T-1 itself start to _melt._ The large rectangular box that made up its torso started weeping metallic droplets, exposing wires underneath, which also started to wilt. The liquification spread quickly towards the droid’s limbs. The top of its head softened and started dripping into its eyes, the heat causing them to spark and die before they too began to melt.

“What is happening?” The tactical droid said, punctuated by unintelligible bursts of static, “this does not— _zzzz_ —compute, this— _hskk_ —does not compu—”

A burst of the Force pushed the parts of the droids that had been destroyed the traditional way off the sides of the ramp, leaving only a bubbling pool of molten steel. Rex had never seen a droid destroyed that way before, and it was terribly inefficient for how long it took, but it would have been almost satisfying to watch without the context of everything else General Skywalker had pulled today.

Rex whirled back towards the hangar when he heard the clatter of clanker reinforcements behind them. Skywalker scowled down at the remains of the tactical droid for another second before turning also. 

“Get us out of here!” he ordered Echo and Commander Tano, who skirted around the spreading liquid metal to get to the cockpit. Rex and Fives retreated further into the ship’s hold for some more cover while they continued to pick off droids that were still swarming them. Skywalker stayed where he was, deflecting shots in a blur of blue light, until the ramp started to retract and he had to back into the ship proper.

The interior lights flickered on as they were sealed inside the belly of the ship, which lurched as they took off and accelerated quickly. That was all it took for General Skywalker’s legs to buckle, his lightsaber falling from nerveless fingers and deactivating before it hit the ground. He caught himself on his hands and knees, grimacing. Rex hadn’t seen him get shot in the semi darkness of the hangar, but he was sure acting like he had been. He set his blaster aside and approached his General, throwing self-preservation and caution to the wind. Fives did the same.

“Sir, are you hurt?” Fives asked before Rex could.

“No,” Skywalker bit out, which turned into a groan. He squeezed his eyes shut and the muscles in his shoulder tensed under Rex’s hand. Just then, the ship rocked violently, as if a large explosion had gone off somewhere outside. Rex realized that was probably exactly what had happened—he had the feeling the entire Sep cruiser was imploding in a mass of flames right now. Normally, that was the way the 501st liked to end missions, except for the fact that they hadn’t planted any explosives and that meant there was something _wrong_ with General Skywalker.

As the ship shook, Skywalker’s body fell against Rex’s chest, and he instinctively grabbed onto him. The man’s forehead was much too warm where it pressed against the side of Rex’s neck.

“Help me with him, Fives,” Rex grunted once things had steadied, and together they maneuvered Skywalker into a sitting position, leaning against one wall of the transport. They crouched on either side of him.

“Can you hear me, General?” Fives asked, clearly worried. Skywalker’s breaths were coming too fast, and his eyes were still closed, but he choked out,

“Eriadu.”

Right, Skywalker had said Eriadu was the Republic garrison closest to their position. It didn’t exactly answer Fives’ question, but it meant he was conscious at least.

“Go, make sure they know where we’re heading,” Rex told Fives, jerking his head towards the cockpit. Fives left without a word.

There was no guarantee that anyone on Eriadu would be able to help General Skywalker, but Rex hoped there was at least a Jedi there. And, the less time they spent in this tin can in hyperspace, the less chance something more could go wrong due to the interference of uncontrollable Force powers. Rex wasn’t keen on getting pulled out of hyperspace by accident _again_ today.

Normally, in this kind of situation he’d try to keep the man in front of him conscious, but Rex wondered if it might be safer to let him pass out. He’d assumed before that Jedi had to be awake to actively use the Force, although now he doubted whether that would turn out to be true.

Skywalker shivered beside him and trained feverish eyes on Rex’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he slurred.

“What for?” Rex replied trying to keep his own disquiet out of his voice, “you got us all out of there.”

General Skywalker shook his head weakly.

“You’re afraid of me.”

“Sir—” Rex protested, even though he was right.

“You’re supposed to be able to trust me…”

Rex thought for a moment.

“I’ll trust you just fine once whatever they injected you with is gone.”

“That’s probably smart,” Skywalker groaned, then turned his head away from Rex to cough harshly.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Rex remarked, desperate to change the subject.

“Kriffing drug,” General Skywalker rasped, shivering again, “everything hurts…”

Rex didn’t know what to say to that—it wasn’t like there would be anything on this droid ship that would help, not even a blanket—so he didn’t say anything.

“I can trust you,” Skywalker muttered after a few moments, grabbing Rex’s hand and fixing him with another meaningful look, this one much clearer than the last. It made his skin crawl.

“What do you mean?”

“If this makes me—If I go _dark_ —If I try to _hurt_ any of you, throw me out the airlock. Don’t hesitate.”

Rex went still and all the warmth fled from his body. _The dark side?_ _That was a possibility? That had been a possibility this whole time?_

“I—” Rex stammered, but he knew he couldn’t dodge the question, not with the way Skywalker was looking at him. His mind raced: how were they supposed to tell if he was using the dark side of the Force? Rex would have no idea where to draw the line Skywalker was asking him to. And did it really matter? He could probably kill everyone on this ship without lifting a finger—how was Rex even supposed to subdue or kill him? Especially when it was the last thing Rex wanted to do?

But what else was Rex to do but agree? When it meant protecting his brothers and Commander Tano? When General Skywalker had ordered him to? He just had to hope it would never come to that.

“Okay,” he agreed, even though killing his Jedi was his worst nightmare. _Literally_ , his worst nightmare.

“Just—don’t make me,” Rex pleaded.

General Skywalker looked at him again, this time with sympathy in his eyes.

“I can’t promise you that. You wouldn’t believe me.”

Because Rex had just told his Jedi he couldn’t trust him. And his Jedi had _agreed._

“I don’t _want_ to make you,” Skywalker continued breathily, “and I think I’m gonna—gonna pass out pretty soon so that’ll probably be—better…” He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Make sure Ahsoka’s okay,” he murmured. It sounded too much like a dying wish for Rex’s comfort.

Then the Jedi’s features abruptly smoothed out, his head fell forward, and his hand went limp in Rex’s grip. Rex stayed next to him long enough to make sure he was still breathing and had a steady enough pulse. Then he went to sit by the opposite wall of the ship and watched him until they made it to Eriadu.

General Skywalker didn’t regain consciousness until days later, when the medics could say with certainty that he was completely himself again and there was none of the suppressant left in his body. Rex hated how relieved he was that it had taken that long. He didn’t stop dreaming of the mission—and of shoving his General out of a ship, into the unforgiving vacuum of space—for weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> The new episodes of the Mandalorian and a class I just took about healthcare in college have got my brain turning about how the Star Wars galaxy might "medicalize the Force". Unlike some people, I find the concept of Midichlorians a very interesting piece of lore, and it has a lot of cool implications. In some ways, Midichlorians do demystify the Force a little bit, but they also create even more mysteries and openings for engaging storylines. It totally makes sense to me that Star Wars society would be trying to figure out and manipulate the Force in a scientific way--it makes the GFFA that much more solid and real in my mind.
> 
> This adventure is also a result of me thinking a lot about how it must be to be close to someone who is supposed to be a "Chosen One" figure. How do you deal with being friends with someone with that much power, who could totally just kill you with their mind if they felt like it? Probably, you try not to think about it until something comes up and you can't anymore, a la Rex in this story. AND this takes place before Umbara (maybe also before Mortis? IDK) which makes the implications of Krell's abuse of Rex and Fives even more painful.
> 
> And I just like writing Anakin whump. Always that.


End file.
